


A Portal Story

by S_L_Feola



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, F/F, F/M, Gen, Glimmer (She-Ra) Swears, Honestly they all need therapy, Portals, Post-Canon, Scorpia (She-Ra) is a Good Friend, What-If, what is your childhood trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_L_Feola/pseuds/S_L_Feola
Summary: Etheria's magic has always been wild. Now that Adora has absorbed the Heart, that magic resides in her.ORThe battle's done and we kinda won, but where do we go from here?ORThere's a lot of shit to work out and a lot of magic to go around. So this is what happens when they finally confront the consequences of their actions.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Entrapta & Hordak (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma & Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

Etheria’s magic had always been wild. Its tendrils would snake out of the shell that was the planet’s crust and stretch its grasp around beasts, homes, and unsuspecting fauna alike. Nothing in its hold escaped infection. All that touched Etheria, _was touched_ by Etheria soon became Etheria. The living planet breathed life into the cosmos and shone brilliantly on any star map.

It was because of this magic that Etheria’s native sentient species became sapient, learning how to communicate and build and barter and cohabitate (or not cohabitate, as the case sometimes was). And it was this volatile tug of war cohabitation that sparked in Etheria its first proactive fix-it solution. She Ra. A figure for peace and harmony. Or at least someone bequeathed with enough of Etheria’s magic to punch everyone around a little until they treaded back into their docile senses.

It was also because of that magic that Etheria had been breached by uninvited guests. Their first visitors had been sailing the edges of the known universe in a two-bit, but what looked to be formerly glorious space zeppelin. When it landed in the frost of Etheria’s north pole, the zeppelin had heaved a sigh and split neatly in two. The once untroubled citizens of Etheria begrudgingly welcomed the nomadic settlers, granting them small parcels of territory spread around the planet (cautious about keeping their visitors’ numbers unable to overtake their own). But just like everything and everyone else on Etheria, the new inhabitants, too, were claimed by Etheria’s magic and tied to the land.

The second time visitors came to Etheria, they were a lot more calculating. Ships had surrounded it, probing and dissecting from afar with complex instruments and Etheria’s inhabitants had been none the wiser. They stayed like that – watching, observing – for a few years.

And then a mothership arrived. It sent down smaller ships in waves, releasing scientists and armed guards and linguists into the different biomes of the curious planet. They held no fanfare for their own arrival. They simply integrated, convincing the native Etherians that they had been there all along, but in far, secret places at the edges of their poorly drawn maps. The natives calmed them First Ones, then, and venerated them.

But Etheria knew better. It knew the new holes and perforations that these invaders were digging into it. It felt its magic being caged, harnessed. And it watched as its inhabitants, blind to the pain of their earth and lifeblood, were given runestones and taught magic as if it was a gifted invention and not something they had been doing all of their lives, like breathing.

The First Ones had their favorites. The refugees that had landed shared enough physical similarities with them that they all but shunned those naturally evolved from Etheria’s belly. The refugees, who by this point in time had forgotten where they had descended from and looked to the First Ones as their possible origins, were given the runestones. They were instructed in the nature and responsibility political hierarchies and how to rule over ‘savage beasts’ as if their Etherian brethren were any less civil, any less capable than they were and deserving of pity and protection.

Etheria saw their secrets. The outposts, the tunnels, the villages, the temples the built. Etheria witnessed the construction of the Watchtower, eyed the resurrection of the Crystal Palace. And, before long, Etheria watched as they unraveled the mystery of She Ra and corrupted her selection. It was the last straw. Without full use of its magic or its dedicated avatar, Etheria was gutted. Blindness would have been preferred. But it waited. Because it knew nothing, not even these First Ones, could last forever and change was inevitable.

And the day did come, eventually, when Mara, a First One-selected She Ra, and her rag tag team of rebels foiled the best laid plans Etheria’s invaders had made. In a fiery, dramatic, and yet unclimactic instant – the First Ones had fled and Etheria and its moons were transported via portal to Despondos, one amongst an infinite number of dimensions. Portals. Dimensions. Etheria could work with that, it supposed.

And for the next thousand years, Etheria did just that.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The first Etheria had created a portal it had been on a whim. Its citizens were complacent with the state of their world while magical creatures hid deep in the wilds of Etheria, some slumbering from the continued bloodletting of their magical lifelines. The Heart of Etheria was still siphoning magic and everyone seemed none the wiser.

So, Etheria did what it did best. It meddled.

Out by the Whispering Woods, a shimmy of light rippled in the air. It was small, just a paltry little thing, and it didn’t last long, but from the edges of some alternate universe, Etheria tried with all of its might to suck something in. Just as soon as a little blue mush had appeared through the portal, the portal vanished with a gasp – energetically exhausted.

There, laying still in the grass, was a mushroom. Etheria didn’t really know what it was besides somehow having captured its name. It didn’t seem to move or feel or notice the difference in its environment. In fact, it looked rather inconsequential. But still, it was a start and Etheria had worked with far less, giving life to organic matter so small and so oblivious that this was rather firmly in its wheelhouse. It wouldn’t be for naught.

But, a problem became clear: how was Etheria supposed to conjure a portal big enough to pull itself back into the wider universe and demand the help it needed to set its magic free?

The second time Etheria created a portal took considerable more effort. The ripple in space time lasted for about a single second and was no larger than gold piece. And so, in the corner of a tavern where no one was paying attention, it sucked just that with an eager gulp to some unknown plane in some unknown dimension. The strain lessened, even if it was so miniscule it ought not to have been noticed.

For centuries thereafter, tales of gremlins started to arise. Gremlins were said to be creatures, most probably invisible, that would rummage through your rooms and possessions and steal something of no real consequence or value. Hairbrushes, quills, teaspoons. Once, an armchair went missing in Elberon but the lady whom it had belonged to was widely considered deranged and forgetful. The town surmised that she must have disposed of it and the memory of the event had simply disappeared from her mind.

Almost a thousand years after its newfound residence in Despondos had become permanent, Etheria was still no closer to creating a portal of any significant size. If it had been personified, frustration would have set in and begun clawing away at its resolve long before then. But, no. What it needed was a change in tactics. The possibility of opening a portal large enough as the First One’s was rapidly deteriorating as the Heart continued its siphonage. What Etheria needed was someone who knew about the existence of portals, could reasonably stand a chance at creating one, and would stop at nothing to do so.

Remembering the past, Etheria recalled the enemy of its enemy.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Horde Prime had sent him to the front lines to die. He did not want to believe it. He found it improbable in itself that the thought would cross his mind as he had been reborn in Horde Prime’s light just before setting off to become a soldier in a general’s war.

Horde Prime had been disappointed with him and it had been his own fault. He had tried to conceal his ailment, tried so hard to curry a favor so strong that Prime may overlook his weaknesses and allow him to serve as beloved in Prime’s graces. He held onto their brotherhood. But he should have known better. Horde Prime knows all. Horde Prime sees all. And Horde Prime had seen through his façade and stripped him of his rank.

Maybe if he had been honest to his big brother, he would still be basking in his presence. Honesty. Maybe there was value in that. (He knew this to be a lie, but there was a comfort in these lies that he clung to. Perhaps this had been his real defect. Perhaps Horde Prime had been right.)

He stepped onto the battlefield, nameless. He was ready to fight for the glory of Horde Prime. He would, he swore to himself, climb the ranks once again.

Horde machinery was strewn around him. Bots were revving up, a skiff was damaged in the dirt, banners were wrapped around the colony supplies these poor natives had rejected. He smiled. Resistance was futile. Horde Prime would see victory that day.

He walked steadily to join his fellow brethren. The air tickled. He stopped. His body tensed and he looked back. With eyes wide and brightened by the light of ripples and suction, he vanished.


	2. Dead Man's Party

If it had been two months after activating the Failsafe and Horde Prime’s defeat, it sure hadn’t felt like it. Every day since had been a celebration, in their own ways. Everywhere She Ra stepped, new life grew. Barren cliffsides turned into mountains; old fields trampled by tanks and bots and elemental damage now sported healthy beds of flowers unlike anything any living person had seen before. The stars lit up the night sky without eliciting the dreaded anticipation of Horde Prime.

The Horde’s time was done. The Rebellion had succeeded. Everything was finally heading towards perfect – so why were there perpetual knots tied up in Adora’s stomach?

Adora leaned up against her room’s balcony in Bright Moon’s Palace, bathing in the glow of the moons. She could feel the Heart beat in her chest in time with her own. Her connection to Etheria was cemented now. The promise of her destiny fulfilled.

Destiny. There was that word again. It had been almost a year since she had shattered the Sword of Protection, severing what she had thought to be her only link to She Ra. She thought she had refused her destiny then. She thought she’d finally come to terms with that refusal. And then She Ra had shown up again.

She thought back to the day she helped Madame Razz make her pie (well, _help_ was probably too cozy a word, _chased_ was more apt). Madame Razz had been mumbling and Adora had struggled to make out the words. _“She Ra is not the sword. She Ra is you.”_

She should have known. Looking back, she should have known so much: that magic couldn’t be controlled no matter how advanced the technology, that She Ra was tied to her love and her resolve, and that Catra hadn’t been a distraction.

She’d felt guilty then, still felt guilty now, that she had chewed on Shadow Weaver’s words. A part of her thought it had made sense. Catra always confused her – infuriated her, embarrassed her, teased her, laughed with her, covered for her, held her hand, shoved her off. She’d never known how to feel and if anything, their relationship had only gotten more complex after escaping Prime’s ship. After three years of fighting to near death, who were they to each other now?

Then Catra had gone after her in the Heart. She had buried her own pain just to be there for Adora when she needed it the most and she’d laid herself bare.

_“Don’t you get it? I love you! I always have. So please, just this once, stay.”_

She should have known. It’d always been love. So why were there knots in her stomach?

“Hey, Adora,” a purr from the doorway interrupted her musings. _Speak of the devil._

“Hey, Catra,” she flashed a slow smile over her shoulder at her best friend. Lover? Girlfriend? Person. Her person. The feline treaded slowly and slipped her arms around her. Adora let herself fall into the embrace, exposing her neck to a nuzzle.

“Want to blow off this shindig?” Catra breathed into her ear.

She laughed, turning around to face her, “Not a chance.” Catra shrugged.

“You lead. I’ll follow.” The knots in her stomach lessened, if only for a moment.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The delegations from each village, town, and kingdoms had arrived. It wasn’t a black tie affair, just a simple gathering to welcome the guests to the Palace, but Glimmer had enlisted Mermista, Perfume, and Frosta to prepare for the event and, as expected, Bright Moon’s courtyards were decked out to the nines. Catra would have felt uncomfortable with this display of luxury without Adora’s hand in hers, squeezing periodically. Well, she would have felt _more_ uncomfortable. She still felt out of place in these royal accommodations.

The duo approached their friends (Catra supposed she could call them that now) who were standing tall and at attention at the center of the gathering with a squadron of guards behind them to emphasize their authority. They didn’t need it, though, Catra mused. The heroes of Etheria were well known and formidable without a show of diplomatic force.

Glimmer saw them first and a twinkle in her eye emerged. She extricated herself from Bow’s hand before teleporting the ten feet that stood between them and launched herself into Adora, seemingly trying to crush her bones.

Adora laughed, “Relax, Glimmer. It’s not like you haven’t seen us in ten years.”

Glimmer pouted, “I’ve spent all week dealing with party prep. Which napkins? Where do you want the ice sculpture? Who should sit at which table? I’m tired,” she groaned. “I missed my friends.”

Catra grinned, “Even me, Sparkles? I’m touched.”

Glimmer rolled her eyes, “Even you, Horde Scum.”

Adora looked between the two, “You know, maybe we shouldn’t go around calling people ‘horde scum’ anymore. They might, uh, start to get the wrong idea.”

Another roll of the eyes, “Fiiiiine. But then she has to get my name right.”

Catra raised her hands, “I make no promises I can’t keep.” That earned her a nudge in the side from the blonde and ‘hrrmph’ from the human embodiment of glitter.

Adora turned her attention to Glimmer, “So, are we starting this thing or what? Because, I don’t know about you, but there’s a buffet table calling my name.” She eyed said buffet table sitting on the other side of the lawn, eyes starting to drool.

Glimmer sighed, “I wish it was ‘or what.’ Parties used to be fun. C’mon. Let’s go be dutiful royalty and attempt to unite Etheria through the power of small talk and hors d’oeuvres.” She dragged Adora’s arm along.

Bow, Mermista, Sea Hawk, Perfuma, Scorpia, Frosta, Entrapta, Netossa, and Spinerella had all lined up to receive their guests. Adora didn’t question why Micah or Castaspella were missing, though she supposed it had something to do with receiving the Mystacor delegation.

The chatter around the courtyard was still buzzing as Catra took her place beside Adora and flicked her eyes across the crowd. They were an eclectic mix. The mayors from all of Etheria’s villages had come with their families, royalty had dolled up for the affair, and a small group from the Crimson Waste had arrived and were trying to blend into the scenery with little success. A representative from every Etherian community was in attendance. Every community except the Fright Zone.

Catra had suspected as much. The Horde’s soldiers had deserted once Prime showed up. There hadn’t really been a need or a place for individuals among Prime’s army of clones. And, truth be told, they weren’t a great military force to begin with. Just brain washed, abused children with weapons. Catra vaguely wondered where they’d all ended up after the Horde’s dissolution. Looking around the place, she didn’t think they’d easily be absorbed into Etheria’s existing communities. But they sure as hell wouldn’t be going back to the Fright Zone.

Glimmer cleared her throat, hoping to get everyone’s attention. The buzzing continued. She tried again only to be interrupted by an ear-piercing screech.

“LISTEN UP, EVERYBODY. QUEEN GLIMMER IS TRYING TO SPEAK,” Frosta yelled atop a column of ice. Glimmer blushed, getting an enthusiastic thumbs up from Frosta once all eyes focused on them.

She cleared her throat again and straightened up, jutting her jaw forward, “Welcome, everyone, to Bright Moon. Forty years ago, the Horde took over the Fright Zone and declared war on Etheria. In the years that followed, we lost so many of our friends and family. We watched as our homes burned and cities fell. We were torn apart. Until She Ra,” Glimmer smiled brightly, turning slightly to acknowledge Adora. Adora waved weakly.

“Because of She Ra and her inspiration, we worked together to defeat the Horde, once and for all. Because of us, because of all of us, Horde Prime is no longer a threat to the universe. Etheria is free,” there was mild cheering among the audience. “But now that our enemy is defeated, it is up to us, all of us, once again, to work together. To rebuild Etheria. To imagine a world without war. We are all the products of war, but together, we can make a world better than that. We can make a Free Etheria,” Glimmer made sure to add some extra sparkleage to her regalia, standing out amongst the Princesses. At the sound of the word ‘free,’ every faction clapped, some hollering. Catra’s tail flicked. Free. She wondered what that would look like. The attendee’s faces told her that they were probably wondering the same thing, too.

“Thank you all for coming. We hope that by coming together like this, we can encourage good will amongst each other. I look forward to speaking with all of you and preparing for what the future holds. It’s an honor to have you,” she let them clap a little bit before focusing again on Adora. “And also – the hero of the hour – She Ra!” Sparks flew from her hand to rain upon Adora, camouflaging the sudden heat that had traveled up to Adora’s cheeks. Adora squeezed Catra’s hand, feeling her shoulders relax when Catra squeezed back.

“It’s, uh, no bother, really,” she scratched the back of neck, eyes downcast.

“And now – party!” Glimmer’s yell was the band’s cue to start up a lively set of tunes.

All of the Princesses but Glimmer and Bow (maybe he wasn’t technically a Princess, but his close association to Glimmer had gifted him an honorary, if not affectionate title) scattered, leaving the duo to greet the heads of each delegation before the party’s main festivities began.

Catra sighed, “And I thought this would be lowkey.” A white tuft of hair came rushing up from Catra’s right, crashing into her and enveloping her in a hug much deadlier than Sparkles’ had been before.

“Oh, Wildcat! I’ve missed you! How are you doing? You eating okay? Have you tried the hors d’oeuvres? Man, Perfuma really wasn’t kidding when she said Bright Moon had the best snacks. Speaking of Perfuma, she tells me your sessions are going really well. Oh, wait –,” Scorpia’s eyes went wide and whispered loudly, “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Scorpia. Down,” Catra responded firmly. A beat later she added, “Please?” meekly. Scorpia was took her time putting the feline down, still grinning wildly.

Another sigh, “It’s not a secret. It’s just something I’m not trying to broadcast to every world leader on this side of the Whispering Woods. I’m good…I – How are you?” Catra could barely look at Scorpia’s face. Scorpia had hugged her, back when Horde Prime had just been defeated. She’d forgiven Catra even when Catra had barely had any time to form an apology, but she hadn’t seen her since. Catra knew from her weekly meditation sessions from Perfuma that she’d have to have a real conversation with Scorpia at some point (some things were still too painted in raw coats of shame to broach), but with a little reassurance, she’d come to accept that Scorpia was still around and was still her friend, no matter how underserving she felt about it at the end of the day.

“I’m great. Really. I’ve just been helping Perfuma rebuild some of the villages in her kingdom. Did you know that their culture uses, uh, what was the word? Hero – no, hieroglyphs! Hieroglyphs to tell stories from thousands of years ago?” Scorpia whistled, “I was blown away. There’s some real artistry carved into some of those trees.”

Adora had wandered away from her best friend. Lover? Girlfriend? Person. Her person, she reminded herself. The buffet table really did look appetizing and she’d skipped out on lunch to chase Catra halfway across Bright Moon’s busiest marketplaces that afternoon. She smiled. Catra had seen her practicing with her staff a little too intently in the training room that morning. It’s not that the mannequins had done anything to offend her (though they did look at her a little funny that one time she’d accidently landed on her head trying to vault herself). It had just been a long time since she’d hit something. And she really, really missed hitting things.

So Catra had suggested they go check out the town. The real town, away from the bustle of the Palace. Adora hadn’t really been there often. A couple of times as She Ra, she supposed. But not as Adora. The townsfolk had looked up to her with such stars in their eyes that she hadn’t dreamt she, herself just as Adora, could measure up to. But when Catra had offered her hand and cocked an eyebrow toward the door, she’d taken it. It was okay. Adora had been every bit as much of a hero as She Ra was. And it was okay if they didn’t see that. It was okay if all they saw was a blonde with a ridiculous poof, laughing through the stalls and failing to haggle for a fancy looking scarf. When she chased Catra through the intersections and the alley ways and cornered her up against the wall in front of a closed storefront, it was all very much okay.

A tap on Adora’s caused her to jump and a little weenie from her plate fell to the floor.

“My apologies, Ms. She Ra. I did not mean to startle you,” a small but deep chuckle accompanied by a strange man met Adora’s eyes.

“Hi,” she greeted him warily.

He smiled, “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rufus, part of Mystacor’s Board of Magicians. I have to admit, when they said the legendary She Ra would be attending this affair, I’d expected someone a little more…taller.” Adora decided then that she didn’t like him. She tried to like people, and most of the time she did, but there was something _off_ about him. She was sure that Catra would have decked him in the face before he’d ever had a chance to utter word.

“Well, sorry to disappoint. It’s just me, I’m afraid. Just little old me,” said Adora.

“On the contrary, I am still impressed. That someone so young, a girl, defeated the Evil Horde? Your tale will color each of Etheria’s history books for years to come,” Rufus replied.

Adora furrowed her brow, “Uhm, thanks?” She definitely didn’t like him.

He stared at her chest. She frowned, “Do you need some help there, buddy?”

“Oh?” he looked up at her. “No, no. Please forgive me. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of…well, the infamous Heart.” He chuckled, “The power of Etheria rests right in there.” He motioned towards her chest. As if listening for an invitation, the Heart glowed.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. Adora put down her plate and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to conceal herself from the man’s bordering on lustful gaze.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I do not mean to detain you. I hope you have the most marvelous evening. A handshake to your health?”

The weirdness did not stop coming. Tentatively, Adora held out her hand. He clasped her hand in both of his. With a swift shake, he was gone.

Adora stood there, processing. To her health? She shook her head. Horde Prime may have been defeated, but creeps would unfortunately persist to exist.

It was then that she noticed something strange, a folded note in the palm of her hand. With a feeling of dread, she opened it.

_You are in danger. The power you hold is coveted by others. Come to Mystacor. The Brethren’s Council endeavors to protect you._

Adora whipped her head up, hastily searching the courtyard for any sign of this Rufus person. She saw Mermista and Sea Hawk entertaining Frosta in one corner, Scorpia, Perfuma, Entrapta, and Catra laughing in another, and Glimmer and Bow still exchanging pleasantries. A shiver traveled down her spine. The Heart glowed.

Adora was ready to smack her face with her palm. Of course the threats to Etheria wouldn’t have stopped with Horde Prime. But this? _You should have known._

Crumpling up the paper, she stalked her way to Glimmer. It was time to resurrect the war council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! I had originally intended to hit more beats in this chapter, but it was getting rather long. Good news, though! That means a good portion of the next chapter is already written and should be up soon.


	3. The Wish

The meeting room hadn’t changed in the last two months that Queen Glimmer had taken back Bright Moon. A couple of chairs were added to an elongated table, but the general ambiance had been left untouched. Adora had thought that a new world called for new décor, but Glimmer fought valiantly for a sense of normalcy and won. Catra hadn’t advocated for either side. She still wasn’t sure what her place would be in this post-Rebellion society, but refusd to leave Adora’s side. Where Adora went, she went. Besides, a room was a room.

The Princesses gathered around the table, some in their seats and some standing a ways off, still slightly confused by the interruption to what was supposed to the end of a victory and the start of restoration.

Adora slammed the note down on the table. Frosta picked it up absently, frowned, and passed it along to her left.

“You know it’s a trap, right?” Catra drawled.

“Well, obviously,” Bow responded. He leaned forward onto the table to continue, “Tell us again how it went down?”

Adora huffed, “This really weird guy from Mystacor -.”

Bow cut her off, “Rufus.”

“Yeah, _Rufus_ , I mean what kind of a name is that? Just came up to me and ogled my breasts – which, I just want to say, I don’t think is very socially appropriate and is that what they teach at Mystacor?”

“Focus,” Bow stressed.

“He stared at my chest, said something about the Heart of Etheria, and then left, leaving me the note.”

“Again – a trap,” said Catra.

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. What _exactly_ did he say about the Heart of Etheria?” asked Bow.

“He stared,” Adora stated plainly.

“What could this guy possibly know about the Heart of Etheria,” Mermista asked, vaguely interested.

“Oh, probably everything,” Entrapta interjected. “The Etherian Makers’ Community was incredibly fascinated about my work with Prime’s chips. I thought they’d be equally as interested about the Heart now that it was no longer a top-secret, universe destroying weapon.”

The whole room groaned. Entrapta looked around quizzically, “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Only _everything,_ ” Mermista replied.

“Well, there’s nothing we can take back now,” Perfuma chuckled nervously. “Besides, what’s the harm in a little techno-babble about nature expansive magic between friends? Er, communities?”

“The problem,” Catra smacked her lips, “is that now all those little power-hungry nerds know where exactly they can get their hands on _some very powerful magic._ ” She spit out the last words like they were poison and her voice continued to raise in volume, “ _The problem_ is that now Adora is a walking target for all the would-be Shadow Weavers of this world and I have no doubt that they have no _problem_ doing whatever it takes to get it.”

“And how exactly would they get it?” asked Frosta.

The Best Friends Squad all stared at Adora, piercing her with her gaze and deflating her shoulders. “If She Ra dies, the magic will probably go back to Etheria,” she whispered.

“You mean, if _Adora_ dies,” stressed Mermista. Adora nodded slowly.

“Then that’s simple!” Bow smiled. “We just won’t let anything happen to Adora.” Adora shot him a small grin.

“ _Not_ simple, Arrow-Boy,” Catra growled. “Did you forget that note? The Council of Boys or whatever they’re called are already gunning for Adora’s head. With the lax security at this party, they could have stabbed her right there at the buffet table before anyone could yell ‘knife.’”

“Hey!” Glimmer protested. “The guards are doing the best they can and we have had no reason to believe that anyone here might be in danger.” She shot a concerned look at Adora. “Until now.”

“Wait a minute,” Bow frowned. “I thought this Council said they wanted to protect Adora?”

Catra rolled her eyes, “Yeah, and I want to eat ration bars for the rest of my life. _Open your eyes._ The people who _say_ they want to protect you are almost always the ones that want to kill you.”

Perfuma opened her mouth again, “Well, there’s a lot to unpack there. But Bow’s right, shouldn’t we give the benefit of the doubt to these people? Or at least find out who they are?”

“I’m gonna with a no on the first one, but maybe some recon wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” said Mermista.

“I say we pummel them,” Frosta smacked her fists together.

“Recon wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Glimmer bit her lip. “I mean, my dad and Castaspella are set to go back with the Mystacor delegation anyway. They could get us some inside intel.”

“Or,” Adora waved her hand, “we could let She Ra handle this.”

Glimmer frowned, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? She Ra defeated Horde Prime. She could take on a couple of magicians no sweat,” she shrugged.

“We don’t need you to endanger yourself, Adora,” Bow said.

“I’ll be _fine_. Really, you don’t have to worry about me,” said Adora. Her ponytail swooshed, adding to the little spark of arrogance that had always gotten underneath Catra’s skin.

Catra dug her nails into the table in front of her, “What part of trap isn’t going through that thick skull of yours? It’s not safe, Adora.”

“I have She Ra. I’ll be plenty safe and besi–,” Adora was cut off. Catra got up and made her way to kneel by Adora’s chair.

“That’s what they’re counting on,” Catra pleaded with her eyes. “They don’t want Adora. They don’t _care_ about Adora. Adora means nothing to them. But She Ra has the Heart. With She Ra….gone,” she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘dead’, “they get what they want. The magic goes back. To them. I’m not worried about She Ra. She’ll come back, maybe in another thousand years, but she’ll come back. I’m worried about Adora. Stupid, reckless Adora who’ll go charging in without a second thought and get herself killed, playing right into their game. Who can’t think for a second that this might be bigger than her. The world will get another She Ra,” Catra swallowed, her throat dry and eyes glossed over, “but I won’t get another Adora.”

Adora looked at her, _really_ looked at her. Catra’s lips were quivering, her gaze steadfast. She held her hand up to Catra’s cheek and fought against the double time in her chest when Catra reached up to keep her hand in place and leaned into it.

Adora bit her lip and whispered, “You have to trust me. I can handle this.”

Catra’s jaw tightened, “There are others who can handle it, Adora. There’s literally a room full of people here who would be better suited than you for doing whatever it is you think you’re going to do. You’re not alone. You don’t have to go rushing into every trap that’s out there for you.”

Adora pulled her hand away and Catra stumbled back into standing position, “Do you really think I can’t get out of a trap? How many of yours did I get out of, huh? I’m not stupid, Catra. I can handle myself.”

“You only got out because other people came to your rescue! Because I _let_ you. They want to _kill_ you!” Exasperation mounted.

Adora’s eyes hardened, “You tried to kill me, too, Catra. And don’t say you didn’t. Maybe somedays the fights were a little off, your jumps a little slow. But you opened the portal, Catra,” her voice was raw and slow, accentuating each word. “And you knew what you were doing then.”

Catra stood still. Her tail was stiff, curled anxiously around itself. Her face was impassible.

Adora continued, “I’m still standing. Despite, in spite, and because of you.” She took a shaky breath, “And I’m not blaming you –“

“Aren’t you?” Catra hadn’t moved.

“No!” She was firm, eyebrows furrowed and then faltered, “Maybe. You just – you have to give me some credit. This isn’t my dying hero moment. It’s just another problem in the sea of problems that intends on sinking us. It’s just another day,” before Catra could rebuff, she added, “You don’t have to keep worrying that I’m not going to come back. I will always come back.” _Now._

The room had been quiet. All eyes were either peeled on the couple or looking anywhere but. The silence hanging between the two of them now echoed throughout the meeting room.

Catra’s teeth grit. Her tail swished menacingly behind her. Before she could say something she knew she would regret (which she would have regarded as a moment of growth for her in any other scenario), she rushed out of the meeting room, not looking back. She wished the doors in Bright Moon would slam shut. It would have provided at least a margin of satisfaction.

Adora closed her eyes and slid back into her chair.

“Well, that was tense,” said Mermista.

Worriedly, Perfuma asked, “Do you think someone should try and follow her?”

“I can go -,” Scorpia volunteered but was cut off by Adora.

“No, I’ll go,” said Adora, resigned. She got up to follow Catra.

Entrapta looked around the table, trying desperately to read everyone’s faces, “I’m still confused…Did I do something wrong?” A round of hands met their respective faces.

There was no sign of Catra outside of the chambers. The halls were empty. The guards were busy keeping an eye on their guests in the main courtyard. They really should’ve been sent to track down that guy from Mystacor, but Adora had a one-track mind. Find Catra.

She knew Catra didn’t like to wander around the Palace. It was too spacious, too bright. Too “princess-ey” is what Catra had called it when she thought no one was listening. But Adora had heard. There was only one place the feline had really taken a shine to and it was her room. Their room, now. So Adora made a bee line for it.

When she opened the door, she saw Catra on the bed laying face down, muffling a scream. She knocked on the already open door, “Can I come in?”

Catra didn’t respond for a second, then turned her face to the side and sighed, “Fine.”

Adora took it as an invitation to lay on the bed with her. She plopped down face up with her hands folded on her stomach. Her dress (the red dress, the only _good_ dress she owned) would be wrinkled in the morning, but she didn’t much care. She doubted Catra cared about the state of her tux, either.

After a few minutes of silence, Catra turned to face her, her body supported on its side.

“I thought you were done playing the hero,” she breathed.

Adora frowned, “I’m not. Playing the hero. I’m not.”

Catra closed her eyes and laid back down on her back, “I know you think you aren’t. I know you miss being in the action. But Adora, _please_ , just think. Think before you go running off. There are always options.” _You don’t have to be one of them._

Adora turned her head to stare at Catra’s face. She’d matured in the last three years, that was clear. Her cheekbones had gotten more pronounced, her lips now constantly chapped. The muscles that had been built for speed were now defined, adding a degree of strength to her agility. And her hair, once cut short by Prime, was now growing out enough for Catra to tie back. Adora had never seen it tied back before. It’d always been an unruly mess and now it looked…adult. Catra had grown. She wondered if Catra thought the same when she looked at her.

Adora followed her impulses and cuddled up to Catra’s side, her face level with her best friend. Lover? Girlfriend? Person. Her person.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I love you.”

Catra smirked, “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it,” said Adora sincerely, earnestly. “All that happened…before. It’s over. We’re older. It’s not going to be the same. And I know we still have things to work through, but we’ll do it. Together.” At that, Catra turned again. The knot in her stomach twisted.

Blue and gold eyes searched her face, looking for any trace of uncertainty, so near that she could feel ragged breaths on her lips, “Did you miss me?”

She stared back. This moment untouchable, removed from reality, “When?”

“When you left,” Catra rasped. “Did you think of me?” _Did you love me?_

“Every day,” her voice broke. “Whenever we’d go to a new town – Bow, Glimmer, and I - somewhere we’d never been before, I’d always ask myself ‘What would Catra think if she were here right now?’ and I’d picture you having cake for the first time or pretending not to listen to small town gossip or laughing. Mostly laughing,” a bittersweet smile. “I pictured you happy. And then I was happy.”

“Are you happy now?” Adora thought about it. She thought about the awkwardness she’d felt at Glimmer’s restoration meetings, the fact that she could sleep a whole night through now with Catra nearby, the elation she felt when She Ra was able to resurrect decaying trees and putrid streams from the pollution of the Fright Zone, how useless she felt afterward when Bright Moon citizens were making plans to repurpose Horde equipment. She thought about the warmth in Catra’s eyes when she’d moseyed on over and tossed a pair of skiff keys at her. She thought about the years they could’ve spent together trekking through Etheria instead of hating each other’s guts.

“I’m happy you’re with me.” It was honest.

Catra’s brows furrowed, “That didn’t answer my question.”

She bit her lip, “I don’t know. I feel like there’s so much to say still and -,”

“Then say it,” said Catra.

She grimaced, “Now’s not the time.”

“We have all the time in the world now, Adora,” Catra said softly. “And we need to…I need us to communicate.” It was Catra’s turn to grimace. “I hated saying that,” she gagged.

Adora laughed, “Talking about feelings was never our strong suit.”

“I seem to recall someone who really liked to punch their way out of having any.”

Adora scoffed, “Hey, I wasn’t the only one who resorted to violence!” She punched Catra in the arm and Catra shoved her with twice the force and almost kicking her off the bed, only proving Adora’s point. They laughed meekly, holding onto each other. The soft pain was still there, but the clinging made it bearable.

“Man, the Horde really showed us,” Adora wiped an errant tear of laughter ( _ache? Resentment?_ ) from Catra’s cheek.

Catra closed her eyes and reveled in the touch, “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like?” Her partner let out a small ‘hmm.’ “To not have been raised in the Horde?”

Adora stared into her eyes again, finding that thread that kept them together like magnets under pressure, “Sometimes. But would we have met?” Adora looked down at their intertwining bodies, breaking the connection. “Would we have still been us?”

Catra bristled, shifting onto her back, thinking loudly. Adora sighed and sat up, rubbing her temples. The knots in her stomach were painful now. She could feel the stress of the last few years bearing down upon them, crushing them with its weight. She wanted to go back to simpler times. Times when she could solve a problem by hitting rocks or making battle plans or concentrate on anything but herself (since it seemed that was the primary task she was now instructed to do). She wanted to be light and carefree again. Was that peace?

“What would you wish for?” Adora almost hadn’t heard the question. Catra sat up then, slowly, facing her again. Adora could feel the Heart in her chest rising, making itself known. Catra reached out her fingers to touch it. Adora let her.

“I wish you would have left with me that day.” Catra knew what day. The words stung, but she met Adora’s gaze.

“And I wish you would have stayed.” They could see the pain they each felt reflected in the other’s eyes. Memories unspoken and unsealed flooded them both, threatening to drown them in an emotional tsunami. Catra’s fingers tightened into a grip over the Heart. Adora could feel the painful knot in her stomach contracting, sending shockwaves throughout her body. Before she could express her pain, white lights shimmered behind each of them.

Eyes widened in split-second fear, they each had but a second to cry for help.

“Ca - !”

“Ad - !”

The white flashes were gone and so were they.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! I'm excited to start this journey with you. I'm freeflowing most of this with specific beats that I want to hit, but I'll add more tags along the way.
> 
> Rest assured, this is absolutely a Catradora fic. Etheria and Hordak are not the central points of this story - they're just crucial for world building. This fic was conceived as my way of being able to do both a canon AND and AU fic because I didn't want to choose.


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